


Courting a Mistress

by LadyJaneSlay1554



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: 1860, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Historical, Cute, Date Night, Dethklok does Disney essentially, Dinner, F/M, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, Hoop Skirt, Humor, Kiss on Cheek, Lots of Details, Romance, School, Shyness, Walks In The Park, evening stroll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-02-18 10:23:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21509530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyJaneSlay1554/pseuds/LadyJaneSlay1554
Summary: AU ALERT!Abigail Remeltindtdrinc is a young schoolmistress and Magnus Hammersmith is a schoolmaster/disciplinarian at "Klok Academy" just before the American Civil War.  When everyone forgets Abigail's birthday, he pulls out all the stops and treats her to a very romantic dinner date.  In the course of the evening, they get to know each other and learn that appearances can be deceiving - in a good way.I broke this up into tastier little chapters and edited it the best I could - the whole thing all together was a bit of a beast before.  Originally published as "A Night on the Town."Comments and Kudos are LOVE!
Relationships: Magnus Hammersmith/Abigail Remeltintdrinc
Kudos: 3





	1. A Birthday Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> OOC? Uh, yeah.  
> Fun to write? OOOOH YEAH!  
> Fluff? Kids, this is what fluff wants to be when it grows up!
> 
> Picture, I guess, Abigail and Magnus having a Disney-quality first date night. It's adorable. It's my ship, darn it, and I'll do what I want! Heck, I put them through the wringer enough in other fics.
> 
> Companion piece to Lurking_scarecrow's 1860s One-Shots. Thanks for the encouragement!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As she grades papers, a lonely young school teacher gets a surprise visitor.

Schoolmistress Abigail Remeltindtdrinc sighed as she looked at the calendar. It was the last Friday in November – her birthday. None of her friends in town or companion teachers she had seen that day had said a peep about it. About a week ago, she had received a small parcel from her father, containing money, a few linen handkerchiefs and a brief letter wishing her a pleasant birthday, but that was about all. She remembered having modest, yet still entertaining birthday parties with friends and neighbors. In the bleak Wyoming late fall, it was nice to have something to celebrate. It was lovely to see people and to be sociable. She missed those times and her old friends. Sure, she’d made a few new acquaintances at school with the other schoolmistresses, and she was on good terms with the gentlemen on the school board, but aside from the big Christmas party each year and the Independence Day celebration in summer, there weren’t a lot of opportunities to mingle and make merry.

Abigail reviewed her Klok Academy scholars’ short essays as the oil lamps flickered. She’d grade these, tidy up the schoolroom and return to her coworker Steffalinka Gurbaldigflat’s house for dinner, a bit of reading and sleep, she supposed. It was a nice enough house to stay in for the school season.

The young schoolmistress paged through the essays, noting the spelling and grammar in each one. Young Nathan Explosion had written about the Trojan War and needed to work on his handwriting. William Murderface wrote about Bloody Mary Tudor. His essay contained more than a few run-on sentences. Skwisgaar Skwigelf, who had written about the French Revolution, had a few spelling errors, but then again, English wasn’t his first language. Young Pickles had written about the nation’s first president, George Washington. Despite a few punctuation slip-ups, his essay was far and away the best of the bunch. Toki Wartooth, her youngest charge, had written about the Templar Knights. 

As if on cue, just as Abigail had completed correcting Toki’s shifting tenses, there was a knock at the door.

Who should enter Abigail’s schoolroom but the master of medieval literature himself, Magnus Hammersmith, dressed in a rather nice looking suit and top hat. Upon entering, as befitted a gentleman, he removed his hat and set it on a nearby desk. He wore a rare grin and his eyes danced in the lamplight. The schoolmaster held something behind his back as he bowed to the startled young woman. “Good evening, Mistress Abigail. I’d like to wish you a very happy birthday.” Instead of carrying his customary walking cane, Magnus held out a beautiful bunch of fresh cut flowers – pink, red and white roses, cream colored lilies, lavender and magenta carnations and dainty white baby’s breath – all wrapped in light pink tissue paper and garnished with a royal purple bow – Abigail’s favorite color.

Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the tall, handsomely dressed schoolmaster and the extravagant gift. Magnus presented the flowers to her with a smile, taking her hand in his gently and planting a delicate kiss on the top before pressing the large, colorful and sweet-smelling bouquet into her hands. 

“Oh, my! Thank you! I… These are so lovely. Magnus…. However did you get…?” she stammered, for once, lost for words and uncharacteristically inarticulate. This was such a surprise! She blushed furiously and placed the hand he had just kissed over her face in embarrassment. It was not usual for her to be this flustered.

“My dear, these flowers pale in beauty in comparison to your smile and radiant face. I hope they will bring you joy and a bit of brightness in these dark months,” he said with a voice less gruff than usual. He went on. “I hope your day went well. Those young ruffians didn’t load you down with too much grading, did they?”

Oh, well. I actually just finished scoring their history essays,” Abigail replied, regaining her composure as she absentmindedly played with the satin bow on the bouquet. She thought of something and said excitedly, “Toki, in fact, wrote about the Templar Knights! Isn’t that something you teach your students?”

Yes, it is. That’s a difficult unit, but the students seem to enjoy it. But I reckon it’s a bit ahead of Toki’s level yet – they don’t get into that unit until their last year at university. I suppose he’ll be ahead of the game when he gets to that course. I’m sure he’ll have fond memories of his time in Miss Remeltindrinc's class,” said Magnus graciously.


	2. An Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus extends an offer to a flattered but uncertain Abigail.

Abigail smiled, but mentally almost pinched herself – this was not the sarcastic, severe, sometimes-sadistic disciplinarian she’d come to know on his disciplinary rounds to her classroom. He was acting entirely TOO nice, but it was pleasant to have an engaging adult to talk to after a busy school day. Still, who WAS this man before her? What did he want? Was he going to keep acting this way?  
  
Magnus noticed Abigail’s somewhat confused expression and grinned. “Sorry, I sometimes get carried away. You must be wondering why I’m here. I came here because I wanted to tell you that I admire you and the respect you command from your scholars. I read today was your birthday in the university’s newspaper and wanted you to know I care about you… as a fellow educator colleague and… as a woman. I have thought this for… several months now and thought tonight would be a good time to step forward. It would give me great pleasure if you would join me for dinner in town.”  
  
Stricken and, admittedly somewhat smitten by his sweet words and the genuine tone he used, Abigail looked Magnus up and down. He was tall and cut a very dashing figure, with his new suit and top hat, now resting on a desk by the door. His long brown and silver wavy hair was tied back loosely in a charcoal colored ribbon. The schoolmaster’s glazed over left eye added an air of mystery as well as intriguing menace, so well-suited for putting the fear of God into his disciplinary charges. She had to admit, she’d always found him interesting and respected him for his work. Perhaps she could be a bit daring tonight and take him up on his offer. It was high time she had an adventure! Plus, it would get her back to her birthday celebration roots – going out and engaging with her community, enjoying food and good company.  
  
She grinned widely. “Yes, Magnus. I would enjoy that very much. Have you made a reservation?”  
  
“That I have, Miss Abigail. We would be dining at 7.45, if that suits your schedule. Have you ever been to The King’s Arms? They have the most exquisite, tender beef tips in a very tasty red wine sauce. There’s also pottage pie, delicious ribs, and a choice steak.”  
  
“How nice. Thank you, Magnus. That all sounds very tasty, and I am rather hungry. Will you meet me at Miss Gurbaldigflat’s house at seven? I’d like to rest a bit and change into a dinner dress for this,” Abigail said, her excitement building.  
  
“Of course. I’d be happy to escort you there, if you like,” said the tall schoolmaster. “It is so dark this time of year and I’d hate for you to lose your way,” he said, a twinkle in his right eye and a sly smile on his face.  
  
“Yes, thank you. It’s just across the street and down the block. I suppose the Gurbaldigflats will let you sit in their parlor until I’m ready – it won’t take long.” She was sure he would be welcome – and this would surely give the Gurbaldigflats something to talk about! Abigail found she didn’t care at all as she donned her felt hat, wool coat, leather gloves, closed the vents to the stove and blew out the lamps with Magnus. She collected her bouquet from her desk.  
  
They locked up the schoolhouse and set off, met by the last deep purple and magenta streaks of a sunset. The moon was already high in the sky – a dainty crescent. Stars were beginning to shine. Abigail could pick out the Big Dipper and Orion’s Belt. A promise of a beautiful night….


	3. Building Excitement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail readies herself for a proper 19th century date.

Just as she said, the Gurbaldigflats were very gracious to Magnus. Abigail was thrilled that she officially had a gentleman caller, co-worker that he essentially was. She introduced Magnus to the family and informed them they would be going into town for dinner. As she mounted the stairs to her room, Mr. Fred Gurbaldigflat was animatedly discussing politics with Magnus as they sat in plush armchairs in the parlor, a roaring fire cheerily burning in the hearth. Mrs. Ellen Gurbaldigflat made sure both men had full cups of black coffee. She also trimmed the stem ends off Abigail’s bouquet and placed it in a cut crystal vase with lukewarm water. Steffalinka, the Gurbaldigflat’s daughter who was Abigail’s age and who taught art history lessons to the older students, was preparing dinner for the family – chicken pot pie!

Abigail entered her room and removed her charcoal colored calico schoolmarm dress and the white cotton collar that attached to it. She changed out of her corset cover and chose a fresh one with a low neckline. Before she did, she splashed on some rosewater to freshen up and adjusted her corset. The young schoolmistress put a slight bit of rouge on her cheeks and finely rimmed her eyes with black kohl – hardly enough to notice – she was no tart! She donned some lip gloss with a hint of magenta. For her eveningwear, she chose a fine wool turquoise-green-colored dress with a low, rounded neckline and black trim she had made the last year during winter. With bell-shaped, lace-trimmed sleeves and a full sweeping skirt, Abigail felt like a winter princess wearing it. It complemented the pendant necklace she never went without. The young woman switched out her hat for a black felt bonnet bedecked with an elegant spray of cream and black feathers after doing her hair up in a neat bun with a few curling tendrils hanging out, framing her face. All the while as she prepared herself, her heartbeat seemed to increase 

As she finished getting ready, she smiled at herself in the mirror. This was a fine way to celebrate a birthday indeed! She had a positive feeling that this night might begin a new chapter in her life, and she embraced it. Filled with confidence and hope, she descended the stairs.


	4. Away We Go!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail and Magnus enjoy a cozy coach ride into town.

Her own smile in the mirror was far from the last one she’d see that evening. The Gurbaldigflats all beamed as their elegant boarder swept into the parlor. Magnus, seeing her in this new dress for the first time, nearly spilled his coffee all over the fancy Oriental rug as his jaw dropped open. Abigail ducked her head, covering a giggle with her hand. “No need to make such a fuss,” she said playfully. “Shall we go?”

“You’re a vision, Miss Abigail. Yes, absolutely – I’m very hungry. Thank you all for your hospitality, Mr. and Mrs. Gurbaldigflat. Miss Steffalinka.” He shook hands with each of them. “You have an enchanting home.”

They put on their outerwear and Magnus held the door for Abigail. “After you, birthday girl.” Abigail stepped out into the sidewalk and was met with another surprise – a fine black polished coach with a smartly clad driver pulled by a pair of elegant bay mares was parked right in front of the Gurbaldigflat’s house. Magnus smiled and led her to its door. 

“Thank you! Magnus – my goodness. You’re certainly showing off tonight!” she said as he helped her inside the velvet-upholstered coach. They sat facing each other as the driver closed the door and they began to travel down the street.

Abigail got a good look at Magnus in the flickering light of twin oil lamps mounted in the coach. He looked back at her, hoping to get her to talk. He ventured a small grin. She blinked, sighed and took his hands in hers. “I can’t thank you enough, Magnus. You’re really outdoing yourself. This is a real treat for me, you know. I haven’t had a night on the town since… I can’t remember! Thank you for making me feel so special.”

Magnus lightly squeezed her hands. “You’re a remarkable woman, Abigail. Not many people can control pupils like you do and I truly admire that they seem to be getting so much out of your lessons. You are making them shine. It takes a special, gifted person to do such a thing. Boys like that – they’ve usually stopped learning and taking to new ideas by the time they reach 18 or so. They’ve become set in their ways. But you’re not stopping with them. You’re molding them to be better people. You’re demanding their attention and they’re willingly giving it to you. They have learned to respect themselves. And most of all, they’ve learned right off the bat to respect YOU. Very impressive, my dear. Very impressive indeed.”

“I’m relentless, and I want to do my job well, that’s the long and the short of it. Discipline is as important to my job as education is. When I can use positive reinforcements, I do. Scholars like to be rewarded for a job well done, and I found that I enjoy giving to deserving people for deserving actions. On the flip side, when I find I must punish, I want to make certain the lesson is learned, once and for all. I’m not afraid to use force when I need to. I know you echo my beliefs on that matter. We did not become teachers to forge friendships with our charges.”

Magnus’ and Abigail’s glinting eyes met in the flickering light. The schoolmaster found he had significantly unconsciously tightened his grip upon Abigail’s hands as she spoke. He lifted her gloved right hand to his lips and gave it a kiss, his second that evening. “You amaze me. Such convictions. Such actions.”

The coach stopped and the driver let the pair out across the street from the restaurant. Magnus thanked and paid the coachman for his services as Abigail patted the velvety-soft noses of the mares. He confirmed that the coach could pick them up at 10pm.


	5. Dinner Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our pair enjoys a hearty meal and revealing conversations.

Hand in hand, they entered The King’s Arms and were immediately greeted with delicious smells – steak, biscuits, apple pie, pastries…. 

Abigail and Magnus couldn’t recall ever smelling so many good things at once, except on holidays. The host checked them in and showed them both to a table set off to one side, in an alcove of a bay window. He pulled out the chair so Abigail could be seated comfortably in her hoop skirt. Magnus took his own seat.

Since the restaurant was situated on a hill, the pair got a scenic view of the valley in which many of the townspeople resided. Twinkling lights were all aglow, making the valley look like a nest of fireflies. Abigail could see the stars clearly now. It was certainly turning out to be a beautiful night.

Magnus and Abigail looked over the menu and, per Magnus’ recommendation, ordered the beef tips. Magnus chose a steak for himself, medium rare. Water was brought out and Magnus and Abigail shared a bottle of red wine.

As they shared their wine and waited for their food, Abigail thought she’d reveal something fairly private with her presumed beau. They had been opening up to each other quite a lot, and she thought she’d continue the trend. Perhaps the wine was helping, too. “Magnus, I’d like to tell you something serious and I hope you’ll hear me out. I want you to know that I’m half Indian.”

The schoolmaster’s eyebrows went up in surprise and he nodded with an intrigued look on his face. He leaned in, clearly very interested. “Is that so? What tribe? What side?”

She went on. “Shoshoni, on my mother’s side. Her name is Thunder Horse and she’s a medicine woman. I lived with her until I was 5 years old, then my father, George Remeltindtdrinc, brought me into his family. He and my mother had never wed. In the time they spent apart, he had married a woman. He and my new stepmother, Darcy Lewis, raised me. They saw that I got a good education and I remember a happy childhood. It was exciting to be able to see my half-brothers and half-sisters born and to help raise them. But they’ve moved away now and are all on the East Coast. They have their own lives. The last time I saw my mother, I was 19 and she was the matriarch of the tribe. She also had gotten married – she’s Chief Field Wolf’s wife and his closest advisor. She gave me a beautiful woven blanket and a beaded buckskin dress she’d had in her youth. I still keep it in my closet. It was wonderful to see her again and to find she was doing so well. Not many children can see their parents thrive in their golden years.” 

She smiled wistfully. “I’ve been so fortunate in life. Luckier than most. But I’ve missed social events since I’ve been away from my family. Your invitation out couldn’t have come at a better time.”

Magnus was touched that she felt comfortable enough to open up to him so much. “What a way to grow up! That’s very interesting and it says a lot about you. I can absolutely see the Indian in you. And now I understand how at-ease you are around children. Even those big kids at the Academy, haha! How extraordinary. Question for you – did your mother give you a special Indian name?”

Abigail hadn’t thought about her very first name for a long time. She blushed. “Don’t laugh.”

Magnus cocked an eyebrow.

“Dancing Otter.”

“Dancing Otter? Really? That’s absolutely adorable, Miss Abigail.” He tried his best to hold back a chuckle.  
She laughed aloud. “It’s all right, go ahead! You look so silly trying to hide it! Yes, I was Dancing Otter. Keep in mind, had I stayed with my mother, I would have gotten a much more distinguished name in my teens. My mother’s name growing up was Hungry Chipmunk! But when she became a medicine woman, she got a stronger name. It’s all part of the coming of age process.”

Magnus looked like he was about to say something, but just then, their food arrived. Abigail held Magnus’ hands as they both shared a silent prayer over their suppers and proceeded to dig into their meals.

Magnus topped off their wine glasses as they ate, exclaiming over how good the food tasted. Abigail delighted in the savory sauce and the tender beef tips. The mashed potatoes, steamed beans and carrots on the side complemented her meal deliciously. Magnus cut into his steak, licking his lips at the sight of the deep pink flesh of the perfectly cooked beef. A big baked potato loaded with butter and chives completed his main course. They tried bites of each others’ meals, having lots of fun feeding one another. They continued to laugh and joke about their coworkers and swapped stories about especially interesting days in the classroom.  
“Did you know that William Murderface’s family farms all sorts of root vegetables? On the first day of school, he came to class with a giant bushel basket of potatoes, radishes, turnips, carrots and beets! The Gurbaligflats were beside themselves – they’d never seen so many vegetables like that in one place before – I think that sold them on my boarding with them.” She laughed, and was glad to hear him join in.

“I had a student who wasn’t getting very good marks, but for his final class presentation on the Knight from Canterbury Tales, he came to class in a full suit of armor. I suppose he thought I’d give him extra credit for effort. He did such a surprisingly good job on his presentation and paid special attention to all the details that I gave him an A and he ended up passing the class!”

Abigail finished her meal and took a sip of wine. “My, my! That sounds like a deathbed confession, so to speak! Such dedication. Isn’t amazing how students surprise us?”

“They certainly do. Did you enjoy your meal, my dear?” Magnus looked at his clean plate. “That was very tasty.”

“Simply divine. Fine food, fine company.” She smiled, faintly hoping she didn’t have anything stuck in her teeth. “I couldn’t ask for a better birthday.”

“Would you care for dessert? I believe their apple pie is famous throughout town.”

“If you insist,” she said, sipping her water. Her eyes sparkled in the candlelight.

Magnus ordered as soon as he saw the waiter and then took her hand again. “My dearest Miss Abigail, this has been an evening straight out of a dream for me. Thank you so much for opening up and for allowing me to get to know you. I want you to know that you are special to me and that I would like to continue seeing you. I know that as a schoolmistress, your job depends on you being single. Should you marry, you would lose your job. I, on the other hand, get a pay raise if I marry. If we are to pursue a relationship, which I dearly hope we will, we ought not make it public at the university for the sake of your job, which I presume you want to keep. Would you be open to being secretly courted?” He looked at her with more hope in his eyes than she’d ever seen in her life.

Her mind was buzzing – this was a fantastic moment! She felt alive and wanted and important. She felt a stirring of desire deep within herself for the tall man across the table with one cloudy eye and silver streaked hair. Abigail squeezed his hand. She was certainly feeling sparks of excitement for this man and he was clearly feeling the same way about her. This was that new chapter in her life that she’d been hoping for, too. “Yes, Magnus.”

He beamed and smiled and squeezed and kissed her hand joyfully, just as their slices of pie arrived. She grinned widely, highly amused by his over-the-top-happy expressions. “Perhaps we can write letters to each other? I don’t think we ought to change the way we act at school. We can spend time together in the evenings like this. Or go on walks. Take a trip to the theatre?” She wanted to spend lots of time with him – the fact that it was a secret made it all the more romantic – it would be as if they were both acting in a play.

They paused to eat their pie, both imagining what outings they could go on, where they could meet. Abigail supposed the Gurbaldigflats could keep quiet enough – they were kind, trustworthy people. Klok Academy was an unusual school that gave both Saturday and Sunday off, so it would nice to have two consecutive days free of work commitments. Of course, and rightly so, they were expected to be at all church services on Sundays, but perhaps they could “bump into each other” and end up sharing a hymnal as they sang.

Magnus paid the waiter and they both thanked him and gave their compliments to the chef. The pair used their respective necessaries and exited the restaurant, feeling full and happy.


	6. An Evening Stroll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus and Abigail continue to reveal their colorful pasts to each other under the cold moon and twinkling stars.

Hand in hand, they walked down the street to spend a bit more time together until the coach rolled around at 10pm. Magnus and Abigail strolled through a park lit by gaslights, the chill of the night air not much of a bother to either of them. They looked at the cold pond, at the ducks and geese that had decided to brave the oncoming Illinois winter, clustered on a bank in a sleeping huddle, their beaks inside their feathery backs. How cozy they looked.

The stars were bright in the sky and the crescent moon shone down on the pair as they sat on a bench. Magnus checked the time on his pocket watch – about half an hour until their coach arrived. “May I put my arm around your shoulders?”

She nodded, leaning into him as he did so.

“Abigail, you were so kind to open up to me about your heritage and your family. Might I share something with you?”

“Do tell, Magnus.”

“I’m sure you noticed my left eye – how could you not? I don’t often tell people this story, but I feel compelled to let you know how I got it. My family travelled West on the Oregon Trail, but we didn’t go as far as some. On the trail, back in the late 1840s, we traded some goods with a friendly tribe of Algonquin Indians. We gave them some coffee, fabric, clothes, beads for decoration, pots for cooking and some ammunition and gunpowder. They gave us lots of dried meat, some blankets, bows and arrows and a few bags of cornmeal. They were fascinating people – they showed us their longhouses where they lived, their horses, their families and even invited us to a celebration – a big dance and a delicious feast of bison meat from their very successful hunt.” 

“Unfortunately, a few men from the wagon train had been off drinking when the trade was going on and accosted a few of the natives at their dance that night. They brought their guns and their alcohol and ended up shooting two of the braves. I jumped in to stop our men from attacking after I saw what had happened. I yelled for my friends and family to get out of there, which they thankfully did.” 

“All I had on me in terms of weapons was a knife, but I was 18 and I thought I was invincible. But I was no match for them. As the natives fled back into their longhouses, the men from my wagon train overpowered me and beat me senseless.” 

“I woke up the next day with a splitting headache, few broken ribs and this eye, which I can barely see out of. The Algonquin sent me back to my wagon train with a buckskin horse and a bag of medicinal herbs in thanks for standing up to the aggressors. That was kind, but the men who had attacked the natives had spread word to the rest of the party that I was an “Injun-loving traitor.” Seeing me and my new horse and medicine, with my wounds all patched up didn’t help negate that lie.” 

“My family still took me in; Mom and Pop and my sisters Diane and Laura and my brother Phil. But the rest of the party hardly spoke to us. After we settled in Nebraska, I hired myself out for work. I spent a few years in various one-room schoolhouses until I got here back in ‘57. By then, I had made a name for myself as a strict teacher and disciplinarian. And here I am. Guess if this all works out for us, I might truly be an Injun lover, if you don’t mind my saying so,” he said, giving her shoulders a sudden squeeze.

There it was again. That snarky sense of humor she had known from the start. That little bite at the end of a profound story. She grinned. “We’ll see.” She lowered her head, bit her lip and said, “Such bravery does deserve a reward.”

Magnus’ eyes widened as he bravely flashed a rakish grin. She was doing it – she was flirting with him, playing with him, making him want her so badly! He hoped he wasn’t being too forward as he pulled her into an embrace. His fears were dashed as she wrapped her arms around him. They held each other as he whispered in her ear, “Thank you for understanding me.”

She whispered back, “I’m… I’m glad you’re in my life.”


	7. Goodnight... For Now....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saying "goodnight" is never easy after an exhilarating date....

Knowing they both wanted to do more but looking at the time on Magnus’ pocket watch, the two got up and walked back briskly to the restaurant. The coach met them within minutes and they climbed in, this time sitting side by side, pulling warm blankets over their laps. In the flickering light of the mounted coach lamps, they held each other again. Knowing that they’d be back at the Gurbaldigflat’s soon, Magnus pulled off Abigail’s glove and kissed her bare hand. “May I do the same to your cheek?”

Abigail blushed furiously and smiled at him. “You may.” He kissed both cheeks tenderly. 

She took his face in her hands, looking at him deep in the eyes, so very different from one another. She thought about how she’d witnessed two different sides of this man. Such a contrast, but they completed each other. She wouldn’t want one without the other. There seemed to be a great balance in life. She supposed she herself had shown him two different sides of herself today, and he had embraced that in her, too. She kissed his forehead in the sweetest way she knew how, and was rewarded with a genuine smile and a set of dancing eyes.

“My dearest Abigail. I have had the most magical evening with you. Shall we meet again at church on Sunday? Just “bump” into each other?”  
“I’d like that very much, Magnus,” she said as the coach rolled to a stop.

He helped her out of the coach and walked her to the door. “Happy birthday, Abigail.”

She hugged him one last time. “Thank you so much, Magnus. It was simply sublime.” He tipped his hat and the door opened. Abigail gave him one last bright smile and a wave before going in.

Magnus entered the coach and had the driver deliver him right to his doorstep, still reeling from an exquisite night with an exquisite woman.

That night, they dreamed of each other and woke the next morning, wishing Saturday could be Sunday.


End file.
